An Inconvenient Friend

by Rhonda McKnight

  “It’s our health fair.” She proudly raised the coffee mug to her lips.

  Greg stared at the paper. For a moment he looked confused, and then he looked bothered. “Who—who is the woman next to you?” The words came out like someone had tazered his tongue.

  “It’s Rae, Rae Burns. The woman at the church. I’ve mentioned her to you a few times. She was helping me with the health fair.”

  Greg stood to his feet. “Rae?”

  “Yes.” Angelina knew she’d mentioned Rae’s name a number of times over the last few weeks. “She’s my new mentee.”

  Greg looked funny. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she would swear he was suddenly ill. “I have to go.”

  Angelina stood. “What’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean?” Greg asked nervously.

  “You look funny, and you haven’t touched your cereal.”

  “I’ll grab something later.”

  “Why would you grab something later when you have something in front of you?”

  “Because I have a long surgery this morning. I shouldn’t have milk. It’s been getting to me lately.” He looked back at the paper. “I might be getting lactose sensitive.”

  “That’s new.” Angelina was mystified. The man ate bran flakes every morning.

  He folded the Weekly under his arm. “I’ll read this article later.”

  She nodded. He was acting strange. Real strange, and then something occurred to her. “Do you know Rae?” Angelina asked, crossing her arms.

  Greg stuck his neck out. “What?”

  “Rae, the woman in the picture. She’s a nurse. Maybe you’ve worked with her.”

  Greg snatched back his head. “No. No. I don’t think so. I was noticing in the picture how much she looks like you.”

  “Really?” Angelina pulled the paper from under his arm, unfolded it, and took another look at the picture. Rae and she were standing close. She was smiling, but Rae wasn’t. She’d remembered how nervous she’d been when the photographer snapped the picture, said she was camera shy, which didn’t fit in with the woman’s personality at all. “Hmmm,” Angelina mused. Now that she was looking, she could see some resemblance. Bone structure—the shape of their eyes. They did look alike. “You’re right. We do favor a bit.” She handed the paper back to him. “Are you sure you don’t want me to cook you something?”

  “I’ve got to go.” Greg folded the paper and leaned in close to her. Instead of giving the customary peck on the lips, he kissed her deeply, took her breath away really, and then gave her a hug. She followed him out of the kitchen and to the front door like a whoop puppy. One kiss, and she was already reconsidering her early lament about leaving him.

  Suddenly he turned around. That weird look still on his face. “What are you doing today? After work?”

  Angelina was caught off guard. He surprised her with that question. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked her that. “Uh, nothing until Bible Study.”

  “Let’s have dinner. I want to make up for last week.”

  She shook her head. “It’s my Bible Study night.”

  “Please. I—we should talk.”

  Greg looked so serious she thought no way could she pass it up, but she hated that he was being so discourteous when he knew it was Wednesday. “I’m teaching.”

  “Lena. Tonight. We need to talk tonight.” He was so firm that she wondered what had come over him.

  “Have you thought about what I—”

  He cut her off and raised a hand. “I’m thinking about a lot of things. I’d like us to have a nice dinner, okay?” He kissed her again. Not as lingering as the last time, but not a peck. “I love you. Please call me when you’re on the way home, and I’ll meet you for dinner.”

  Angelina nodded. He walked out the door. She turned the lock and let her body fall against it. I love you? Dinner in the middle of the week? He had been thinking about her. Thinking about them. One moment he’d shut her out with the Wall Street Journal, and the next he was kissing her like they were still in college. She made the slow climb up the stairs to get dressed for her meeting and prayed the passion he’d felt toward her wouldn’t wane with the passing of the day.

  Chapter 34

  I entered my apartment and was shocked to see all the lights on. I was a little nervous at first, but then I realized Greg had let himself in again. He was getting bold about using his key. Maybe it was time to change the locks. If Mekhi came through for me, I wouldn’t be seeing Greg anymore anyway.

  “I still love you, Sammie.” I smiled thinking about those words. They warmed my heart. Made my stomach flutter.

  I called out to him as I moved through the condo. I reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of water, opened it, and downed half of it before I realized he hadn’t answered me.

  “Greg?” I called, entering the bedroom. I found him sitting there, but I also found a mess. My belongings, clothes, shoes, books, were strewn all over the floor. Everything had been completely ransacked. Papers were everywhere. Even my mattress looked like it had been moved. It seriously looked like a criminal investigation team had been in here looking for evidence.

  “What the—?”

  He stood from the club chair in the corner. I could tell he was angry, and at that second I realized—he knew. I dropped my water and turned to run, but Greg was faster. He leapt across the room and grabbed me by the back of my scrub shirt so tight that the collar became a noose around my neck. I gagged and choked, but he wouldn’t let me go. When he did, he shoved me down on the bed like he was trying to break my back.

  “Who are you?” Greg looked at me as if he were repulsed.

  I was trying to catch my wind, trying to get my voice when he kicked at my feet. “I asked you a question, and I’m not going to ask again.”

  I was still struggling to get my voice back when Greg reached down and pulled me up by my shirt with a clenched fist. “You better talk to me now.”

  “What do you mean?” I wasn’t sure how much he knew, and as long as he wasn’t beating me, I wasn’t going to play my hand against his bluff.

  He dropped me on the bed again, removed a newspaper from his pocket and smacked the folded item across my face. It really stung. So much for not hitting me. I was sure to have a welt. I took the paper that had become a weapon and opened it. The Roswell Weekly. The paper I thought I’d avoided. There I was next to Angelina near the registration table. The photographer must have snapped that one coming in the door.

  “That’s me at a health fair.” I shrugged, nonchalantly. “I’m a nurse.”

  Greg smoothed his hand over his head like he was losing patience. “You’re a nurse.” He chuckled, and then he leaned in real close to my face. “It seems, Samaria, you’re a lot more than that.” He stepped back, slowly, deliberately. The man looked like he was trying to decide what he was going to do with me. I couldn’t be sure murder wasn’t on the list.

  “Why did you wreck my place?” I asked, still trying to play like it wasn’t that serious that I was in the picture with his wife. I had to see what he really knew.

  “Because.” He reached into his pocket again. I threw my hands up this time to protect my face. “I wanted to make sure I knew your real name, and I was looking for something like this.” He tossed a picture. I recognized it as the one Angelina had given me the night we spent at the hospital when my mother had been sick.

  I was busted. I didn’t say anything. I was trying like the devil to come up with a plausible reason why I would be in a picture with his wife.

  “I asked my wife who the woman was in the paper this morning, and she told me Rae Burns.” Greg clenched his fist. “She told me Rae was a friend from the church. A new one. One of her mentees.” He moved around the room sort of pacing, but not in a back and forth fashion. I could tell his brain was racing, trying to figure it out, trying to figure me out. “When I got to my office, I watched the video of the newscast she emailed to me.” He chuckled like it was fun
ny. “The one I made the mistake of not caring about.”

  “Yeah, well you’re certainly not going to win any husband of the year awards,” I said, getting up the nerve to stand.

  “Don’t get smart with me.” He pointed a stiff finger at my face. “I could break your neck.”

  “If you were going to break my neck you would have done it already.”

  “Don’t be so sure.” Greg was looking crazy. I mean sure ’nuff crazy like a rat trapped in a cage. That wasn’t a good look for a man twice my size who was pissed with me, but I continued to try and work my way out of this with just the welt on my face. This place was soundproof, and I didn’t know what he was capable of. But I realized I had something I could work with, Angelina didn’t know anything, otherwise he wouldn’t be over here trying to be sure of who I was.

  I crossed my arms over themselves. “Look, I’m tired. It’s been a long night.”

  “You think I’m playing with you?”

  “No, but I know I got your trifling, cheating behind where I want it.” I moved farther away from him. “I’m not going to be a problem for you, Greg. I’ll leave your wife alone, but it’s going to cost you.”

  He snatched his head back. “Going to cost me?”

  “Yes, we have a money arrangement that’s been a little insufficient to meet my needs, so I think we’ll need to double your monthly checks.”

  The look in his eyes told me he thought I was out of my mind. He actually laughed.

  “But there’s one little thing,” I continued. “No more booty. You can leave your key on the way out.”

  He laughed again. “As if I would touch your psycho ...” He stopped. “You think you’re going to blackmail me? Is that what all this little Rae Burns stuff was about?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t giving up any details.

  Greg smirked. “Look, I don’t know what kind of money you had in mind, but you’re not going to be able to blackmail me, because I’m telling Angelina about you.”

  It was me who laughed now. “You must think I’m stupid if you expect me to believe that.”

  Greg grabbed me by the arm and squeezed hard. “Actually, you’re far stupider than I ever thought you were. And I’m not going to keep the fact that she’s been stalked by my psychotic, obsessed piece on the side.” He pushed me down on the bed, and I was glad he let my arm go. “You’re not hurting my wife.”

  “Hurt her?” I massaged my aching elbow. “What are you talking about?”

  “I listened to your message. I heard the guy talking about Angelina.” He picked up the picture of me and Angelina off the bed and put it in his pocket.

  What message? What was he talking about? I slid to the side of the bed and pushed the button on my machine for the one message that was there and heard Mekhi’s voice.

  “Hey, Sammie. Look I got somebody checking out that woman for you, but I need to make sure you ain’t got a brother involved in a murder for hire or something like that.” Mekhi laughed. “Ring me back when you get in. It was good to see you today. I been missing—” I pushed the button to stop it. I’d heard enough. Nadine. Greg thinks this is about Angelina. “Wait a minute, Greg. That’s not what you think.”

  Greg’s face was a mask of steel, like the message had dredged up some anger he’d managed to contain. “I don’t know if you’re a fatal attraction or something worse, but I’m telling Angelina about you.” He walked out of the bedroom.

  He wouldn’t tell her, would he?

  “Greg,” I called. “You’re not going to tell her. There’s no reason for that.”

  “Oh yeah, there is. Mr. Murder for Hire on the tape there. I’m also going to tell the police, so I can get a restraining order to keep you away from us.”

  He reached the door and I slid in front of it. “Wait,” I said. “This is about money. Not obsession. I was trying to get paid.”

  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say. You’re a lunatic, and this is how people get killed.” Greg reached around my shoulder and peeled me off the door. He opened it, and I followed him outside.

  “I’ll go away, but don’t tell her about us. I promise I’ll never go to the church. I’ll never call her again. I’ll disappear.” My heart pounded through every word.

  I could tell he was thinking about it for a second. I knew he’d like to save his skin. He shook his head. “I can’t risk it.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Don’t tell her.”

  He shook his head and pushed me away.

  “I’ll disappear. You know how to keep a secret. You’ve done a pretty good job of keeping us from her.”

  Greg turned back and looked at me. “That’s sex, not stalking.” He pulled his BlackBerry out of his pocket. “I recorded the message to my phone for evidence. You stay away from my wife, or I swear, I’ll see you and that thug on the phone locked up.” He took the stairs two at a time, jogged to his car, got in it, and sped away.

  Chapter 35

  In the seventeen years that Angelina had known him, Greg rarely looked undone. Angelina wanted to get in his case about him walking in the house at darn near midnight, but she didn’t even have the energy tonight. The evening, including this very moment, had been too bizarre. Greg had played with her at dinner. Hadn’t consented to having a baby. Hadn’t done anything really, but look crazy. He’d told her how much he loved her over and over again and ate his food. She could have gone to Bible Study for all they’d talked about. The dinner, the I love yous, had left the hairs standing up on the back of her neck. She sensed there was more to it all, and that same foreboding was a bell ringing in her mind’s eye now. Greg looked like he’d been in a fight. Greg looked scared.

  “I have to tell you something,” he said. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him look so serious. It had been years. Hadn’t been since Danielle’s death that he’d looked so uncomfortable, so not himself as tonight. He left the house a few hours ago without an explanation for where he was going. Now he was standing in front of her, looking like he’d been beat down. Something or someone had shaken him up. She pulled the sheet back and threw her feet over the side of the bed. “What’s going on?”

  Greg dropped his body on the bed. Angelina could see beads of perspiration on his forehead. Her stomach clenched, and she clutched her hands together. “Greg,” she pleaded. This time the fear she felt carried her voice to a higher octave.

  “I—I don’t know how to say this.” He closed his eyes and moved his head in circles like he was trying to relieve tension.

  Angelina didn’t care about his stress. She jumped to her feet. His eyes startled open. “Say it. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

  He loosened his tie and avoided looking her in the eye. “I’ve been having an affair.”

  She immediately regretted pushing him. He could have saved these words for another time. Another day. Another life. Angelina felt all the air leave her body. He wouldn’t have winded her more if he’d punched her in the stomach. She sat back down on the bed, Greg reached for her, and she pushed his hand away.

  “It’s been a few months, I mean, maybe a little more.”

  Hot tears filled her eyes, and Angelina felt like she wanted to throw up. Had he said maybe more, like he wasn’t sure?

  “I’m sorry. It’s wrong. I’ve been wrong. I don’t even know what I was doing, but I want you to know it didn’t have anything to do with you.”

  She looked at him now, long and hard, before whispering, “Really?”

  “It didn’t. It was a thing that happened, and I didn’t stop it. I let it get out of hand.”

  The tears were falling now. She closed her eyes tight and tried to stop the stabbing pain she felt in her heart.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. If I could go back and erase the last six months I would.”

  “So it’s been six months.” She looked at him. She showed him the pain in her eyes before reaching for a tissue on the nightstand.

  Greg stood and nodded his h
ead. “Something like that, but it’s over.”

  Angelina suddenly felt confused. It was over, and she hadn’t caught him, so why was he—“Why are you telling me?” she asked. “Why are you telling me now?”

  Greg was silent. Way too quiet. This was bad. Really bad, and Angelina could only think of two things that would have him stupefied. Two things that would make him tell her this way.

  “Have you given me some disease? Is she—is she pregnant?” The words came out in a croaked whisper. They hurt her throat as much as her heart.

  Greg shook his head. “Disease? Pregnant? No, baby. I—you know I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know?” She chuckled. “What, are you kidding? What do I know? I don’t know anything.”

  “Lena.” He pleaded with his eyes. He was desperate and that was scary.

  “Tell me why you’re telling me!”

  “Because, she did something—she’s not who I thought she was.”

  “They never are.” Angelina said the words slowly, venomously.

  “She’s not who you thought she was either.” Greg’s words hung in the air for a moment. Words that were so mysterious and telling at the same time, Angelina was certain this was about to get worse. Not who I thought she was. Sarcasm had left the building. “What are you talking about?”

  “That woman in the paper this morning. Rae Burns. Her name is not Rae.”

  Angelina shook her head. “What are you talking about? I thought you didn’t know—” And then she remembered the way he looked when she handed him the paper. How he’d seemed sick. How he’d suddenly lost his appetite. No.

  “She’s the woman I’ve been—” His voice broke. “She’s the woman I’ve been involved with.”

  Angelina ran into the bathroom. She grabbed the toilet bowl and wretched the late night ice cream she’d eaten into the water. She felt Greg standing behind her. He touched her shoulder, attempted to comfort her, but she reached back a free hand and smacked at his legs. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She wiped her mouth. “You low down—”

  “Lena. I didn’t know she was coming to the church. I didn’t know you knew her. I didn’t know any of this.”